


Birds of a Feather

by thedevilchicken



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Flirting, Hacking, M/M, Pre-Canon, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-17 09:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13656450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: When DJ broke the Master Codebreaker's encryption, he said it was just to prove he could. That's not exactly true.





	Birds of a Feather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spookykingdomstarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/gifts).



One cheerful afternoon, DJ sliced his way into an account. He'd done it before, sure, lots of times, more times than he could count on the fingers of both hands, but this one was kinda special. 

The door to DJ's super-swish casino suite opened three nights later. He'd locked the door but he hadn't _locked_ the door or else he'd've been a whole lot more impressed and less just plain amused when a familiar face burst through the bedroom door. 

"You stole from me," the Master Codebreaker said. He strode straight on up to DJ, who was kicking back in a bubble-bath - weird installation for a bedroom, DJ thought, but there was just no accounting for rich folks' tastes - and he jabbed him straight in the bare chest with one forefinger. 

"Who are you?" DJ stuttered, almost like he really didn't know, but then again not quite. "What are you doing in my room?"

The Codebreaker scowled, crossing his arms over his ridiculous suit. "You know who I am, slicer," he said. "You emptied my account."

"I don't know what you're talking about," DJ replied. "I ain't no slicer. Does this look like a slicer's place to you?"

The Codebreaker frowned as he surveyed the room, sucking his teeth in irritation. "It looks like _my_ place, before my credits vanished and I found myself ejected," he said, balefully. Then heleaned in and jabbed DJ in the chest again with the tip of one manicured finger. 

"Don't let me catch you in my accounts again, slicer," he said. And then he turned and walked away. 

DJ grinned as he watched him go - the Codebreaker's suit might've been ridiculous, but that didn't mean he didn't cut a pretty figure in it. He grinned as the suite door clicked closed. 

Sometimes he really loved his work. 

-

He did it again two weeks later, his feet up at a console in the back room of a backstreet, backdoor Canto Bight casino run by a gang of surly Dugs. He cleared out another account and spent it playing big at the sabacc tables, night after night, the way he sometimes liked when he had the means at his disposal. 

And then, on the fourth night, in walked a familiar face. He sat down to cards two chairs down and bought in big. Apparently the Dugs hadn't gotten word of who he was, even if everyone else had, or else they had a plan.

"You stole from me," the Master Codebreaker said, glaring daggers at him past the well-armed Twi'lek between the two of them. He was out of place in a dive like that and all the patrons sitting around them knew it - DJ could almost see the credits dancing in their thieves' eyes as they rested their palms real casually at their holsters. 

"This again?" DJ replied, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "You following me?"

"You're not exactly hard to find."

DJ raised his brows. "Sounds like neither's your credits."

The Codebreaker glowered. DJ smiled pleasantly. They played the game. 

And afterwards, when the Codebreaker followed him out into the alley (and who even knew what he thought he was about to do), DJ reached over and took his blaster straight away from him. He shot two creeps in the feet as they reached for theirs, watched them hobble away, and saved the damn fool's life like that. 

"Don't think this makes us even," the Codebreaker said, as he turned on his well-heeled heel and stalked away. He turned back. He pointed. He glared. "Stay out of my accounts!" 

DJ didn't reply - he just grinned and watched him go, then he made his way back to his rented room. 

He had no intention of stopping. He was just getting started. 

-

He did it again three weeks later. He did it again a week after that. He did it again, six times, seven, and spent the Codebreaker's ill-gotten credits all over Canto Bight. 

They met at bars and in casinos and outside clubs watching the fathiers race. He flashed him a grin and said he was wrong about who it was who'd stolen from him 'cause it wasn't him, the eighth time, the ninth time, the tenth. The eleventh time, he bought him a drink. The twelfth, he made him pay instead. 

DJ flashed him a grin and sometimes - just sometimes - he thought he almost smiled back. At least he could say he never actually tried to shoot him. That seemed like a small kind of success. 

And then, he was gone. The Codebreaker left - he left the city, left Cantonica. He totally bailed out of the Corporate Sector, which kinda seemed disappointingly like he'd admitted defeat. And okay, sure, so it wasn't like DJ didn't have other avenues of revenue, but the Codebreaker had really come to be his favorite. 

So, he hatched the plan. 

He knew it would take time. It would take a really _long_ time. But, in the end, he was pretty sure it'd be worth it. 

-

When he broke the encryption, he said it was just to prove he could. 

Of course, he didn't actually tell anyone, 'cause who'd he have to tell? No family, no real friends that he could speak of - in his line of work, and to his brand of cynic, it was just a whole lot easier to get by that way, without, alone. Besides, he didn't do what he did for validation, or for fame, or for fortune, or for any of that stuff. He did it for kicks, and to prove he could - to himself, and screw anyone else. 

He sliced into the Codebreaker's info on the public node and he cleared out three accounts along with all his juicy personal details, via so many proxies no one would ever know how to even start the trace. Except DJ himself, of course, and maybe - just maybe - someone else could do it, too. 

Screw everyone else, sure, except maybe him. Or hey, maybe _especially_ him. 

Six days later, DJ's door swung open. The Codebreaker walked in, big as life, almost like he'd never left. 

"Why?" he asked. 

DJ grinned at him. He swung his legs down off the desk. He pushed the keyboard back. He stood, tucking his hands into his pockets. 

The challenge had been pretty clear: crack the encryption, take the mantle, become the Master Codebreaker. But DJ hadn't done that. He'd cracked the code but hadn't breathed a word of what he'd found, even though he could've, even though another slicer would. 

" _Why?_ " the Codebreaker asked. 

DJ shrugged. He scuffed the floor with the toe of his boot. His grin mellowed to a wry kind of a smile. 

"You know why," he said. 

The look on the Codebreaker's face said maybe he did.

-

People would say they're not the same, except DJ's pretty sure they are.

Okay, sure, the Codebreaker spends his time in high-class joints like the Canto Casino with a girl on his arm, and DJ barely ever ventures up that far 'cause his comfort zone's the places where slicing gets guys killed. Sure, so the Codebreaker sleeps on dreamsilk sheets and DJ's sometimes just glad he's got a bed at the end of the night. And sure, so the Codebreaker's famous, or maybe he's infamous, and DJ's kinda nobody at all, but that's just the way he likes it. That way he won't draw the wrong attention. 

Sure, so they're different, but they're also the same. That night proved it. 

"You know why," he said, and the Codebreaker nodded. 

"I did wonder, I have to admit," he said, and he sauntered his way across the room. Guys like him can afford to saunter. Guys like DJ know how to run. 

The Codebreaker sized him up, one long glance up and down, head to toe, appraising, like he didn't know his look already. Then he curled his fingers into DJ's lapels, he leaned up on his toes and he kissed him. His ridiculous mustache tickled, not that DJ cared. 

"You could use a bath," the Codebreaker said, biting back a smile. "Can I offer you mine?" He quirked a brow. "It's big enough for two, you know."

"Sure," he said. "Just lead the way." So he led, and DJ followed. It was a hell of a night, back in the same room DJ rented the first time he stole his credits, and it didn't end there.

People would say they're not the same, but screw that, really - other people just don't know. 

Sometimes, slicing's like a game; some other times, it's more like foreplay. And sometimes, cracking a guy's biohexacrypt is how you show you really care. 

The Codebreaker tips him a wink across the casino floor, from over by the dice. DJ grins. He'll see him later - he stole from him three nights ago, so he's got a price to pay, but it's one he can't say he minds paying. 

People would say they're not the same. But they're the same where it matters: they're both slicers at heart.


End file.
